He looked the same, but also different. I saw a rip on his pajama top’s right elbow that I was sure hadn’t been there before. The soles of his feet were dirty. There was a leaf in his hair, and his eyes still weren’t focusing on me, even though I was talking to him.
I tried again.
2
“Where were you?” I asked.
In response, he used a word I’d never heard before.
He said, “Aveinieu.”
3
I thought I hadn’t heard him right. Or maybe he was too tired to speak clearly. I should have asked him to say it again, but instead I remembered all the people downstairs, all the people who were looking for him.
“We have to tell them you’re back,” I said. He didn’t respond. He reached into the dresser for something that wasn’t there, pressing against the back of its empty chamber. I turned from him and yelled out, “MOM! DAD! UP HERE!” I ran down the attic stairs, got to the small doorway just as they reached the hallway. “It’s Aidan!” I told them. “He’s back!”
They were at my heels up the stairs, then ran past me to hug Aidan, to cry, to hug him more, as if they needed to confirm that he was real, that this was real, that we were all awake. Dad pulled me into the hug and said, “You found him,” which I accepted then, but immediately thought was strange, because I hadn’t found him—he’d simply returned. But that didn’t matter. None of the questions mattered, not at that moment. More people came up the stairs and cheered and cried and hugged Aidan like he was an organ they needed in order to breathe. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t cry. He looked lost, which everyone said was the shock of it, the shock of whatever had happened. What matters is that he’s back—people said that right away and truly believed it. Someone got out their phone to let the police know. Someone else started taking pictures, saying, “You’re going to want to have this recorded forever.” Aidan began to shiver, and someone grabbed a blanket that was sitting on an old rocking chair. They bundled him up and the party moved downstairs.
Nobody noticed me staying behind. I wanted to be in the attic a few more minutes before anyone else came back. They were so loud downstairs—it was like every silence of the past six days had burst, and the relief was noisy because we didn’t have to worry about missing someone else’s shout for help underneath.
I tried to find something out of place, something that would give me a clue to how Aidan had gotten up here without any of us noticing. The attic didn’t have any windows or a chimney—the only way in or out was through the small door. So he must have come back into the house, past the locked doors, past all the people downstairs, and past my open bedroom door, then up here before…falling on the floor and alerting me to his presence.
That was the only explanation. There was no other.
There was no way he’d been in the attic this whole time.
I turned to the dresser, wondering why Aidan had stared at it with such intensity. It had been in the attic for as long as I could remember. It had been full of old ironing boards and vacuum parts until a couple of years ago when Mom had gotten really into decluttering and had thrown all of the junk away. It had been empty ever since, and it had been empty when we’d checked it multiple times over the past six days. Just like it was empty now.
I looked. I looked closely.
There was nothing there. Absolutely nothing. Not even dust.
I closed the doors when I was done. Dad called out my name, and I heard it above all the other voices. I knew I had to go back downstairs, join the celebration.
But before I left the attic, something on the floor caught my eye.
It was the leaf. It had fallen out of Aidan’s hair.
4
It was blue. Royal blue. The shape of a diamond.
I had never seen anything like it.
5
Dad called my name again. I put the leaf in my pocket, crumpling it without meaning to.
I headed downstairs.
* * *
—
The police came, and with them came questions. Gentle questions. Natural questions. Impossible questions.
When my parents asked Aidan where he’d been, he wouldn’t answer. I could see this scared them, but I could also see he didn’t have the energy left for an explanation. He looked mystified, as if he thought time wouldn’t have passed while he was gone.
Everyone, even the police, made excuses. Aidan was tired. Aidan was exhausted. Aidan had been through a lot, although nobody knew exactly what. He needed to take a shower and get some sleep. There wasn’t anything that couldn’t wait until morning, not with him safe and sound.
I could sense that Mom didn’t want to let him out of her sight. But Dad persuaded her everything was okay now.
He took a shower. He went to bed. I wanted to be there, wanted to make sure he was okay, but I was told to let him have a moment, let him rest.
Once Aidan wasn’t there to be asked anything, I got asked everything instead.
* * *
—
How did you know he was there?
I heard a sound in the attic.
What kind of sound?
Like something falling.
Did you hear footsteps?
No.
Not Aidan walking around? Or maybe two people walking around?
No.
Lucas, you know you can’t get into any trouble with us, right? We promise, you won’t be in any trouble. So tell us…did you help Aidan get back into the house?
No.
You didn’t sneak him in at any point?
No.
You had no idea he was in the attic?
Not until I saw him there.
And what did he say to you when you found him?
I think he was just…confused.
What do you mean?
He seemed surprised to be in the attic. He kept staring at the dresser up there.
Did you ask him where he’s been?
Yes.
And what did he say?
Aveinieu.
6
The way they looked at me must have been the same way I’d looked at him.
The moment I said it, I regretted it. I had shared something that wasn’t mine to share.
* * *
—